


Blood

by Dark_and_night



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: First Aid, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25291954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: Michael got hurt on one of his hunts.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Reader, Michael Myers/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 89





	Blood

Michael clumped home, injured from his last victims. They had been fighters, and he hadn’t gotten out unscathed. It didn’t matter. It was part of what he did, getting hurt. It didn’t matter. 

His blood created crimson pools behind him, the blood looking almost black in the dim light of the stars. He was beginning to feel almost lightheaded. He’d lost too much blood. He hadn’t had enough to eat. He hadn’t slept enough. He hadn’t taken good enough care of himself to get hurt like this.

His vision grew blurry as he made his way back home, pushing his hand against a tree to propel himself forward, stumbling. It was too much. He had to get home. Michael didn’t care about most things, but he refused to die. That was the one thing he truly cared about, not dying. He had too much to do, too many people to kill, more nightmares to haunt. 

His old house was in sight, he was close now. He was cold. God, if only Dr. Loomis could see him now. Only human after all.

Falling face first into his front door, his already burred vision jarred as his jaw connected to the wooden floor. Sleep, he felt like sleeping. He’d sleep now.

“Michael!” He vaguely heard. He groaned as he felt his mask being pulled off his face. Hey, he wanted that to stay on.

“Michael!” You said again, lightly tapping his cheek. “Don’t go to sleep right now, Michael, stay with me!”

His jumpsuit was stained red with wet blood, and you realized with increasing horror that the blood was his. Getting behind him, you hooked your arms under his, dragging him out of the doorway to the nearest bathroom, where you kept the first aid kit.

You didn’t know a damn thing about first aid, but it seemed like being Michael’s resident sex partner, you’d have to dive headfirst in. You leaned him against the bathtub, your heart sinking when you saw his eyes fluttering.

“Michael, Michael, stay with me.” You turned on the water of the bathtub, splashing him in the face.

His eyes opened and he attempted to glare at you, but his head lulled off to the side, taking away from his threatening demeanor. 

“Good, get angry if that keeps you awake.” You splashed him again, cupping your hands under the water and holding your fingers up to his lips. “Drink some water.”

Michael blinked again, drinking what little water you had managed to hold in your hands from your fingertips. He looked like a wounded animal, licking what few stray drops of water he could from your hands.

“Okay, I don’t know what to do, okay.” You mumbled, taking a towel and pressing it against the large gash on his side. “Pressure on wound, god he’s lost so much, he needs to drink more, oh my god-.”

The sound of panicked mumbling brought Michael to his senses just a bit, and he opened his eyes, looking you up and down, trying to make sense of what you were doing. He heard the sound of water running in the tub, and he reached out his hand, cupping it under the water and bringing it to his mouth, drinking as much as he could. He repeated this, ignoring the stars in his eyes as he did so. 

Reaching your foot out behind you, you kicked open the drawer under the sink, taking a moment from applying pressure to grab the first aid kit. “Okay, you’ll be okay, okay.”

“You talk too much.” Michael mumbled, almost making you freeze if not for the direness of the situation. 

Ignoring your shock, you started to bandage his wound, glancing up at him as he continued to bring handfuls of water to his mouth. You’d never once heard his voice before. Never. 

“You’ll be okay.” You repeated, putting the finishing touches on his bandages. He was Michael Myers. He couldn’t die so easily. 

He nodded slightly, leaning the back of his head against the tub, closing his eyes. He was tired. He wanted to sleep now.

You sat on your heels, watching him. This was the best you could do with the resources you had. Now all you could do was hope that he would wake up. 

But, of course he would, right? He was Michael.


End file.
